Of all the Deadbeat Soldiers
by Dear Aunt Elladora
Summary: On a stormy and somewhat scary night, Andromeda Black gets a most unexpected guest on her doorstep in the form of a wounded soldier. She nurses him back to health, then regrets it. [postHogwarts, Andromeda&TedTonks, semiBlackfic]


Andromeda Black was not, she repeated into the empty flat for extra emphasis, afraid of storms. Thunder crashed outside and the lights flickered before she realized how wide her eyes had opened in fear. Straightening out into a brave stance, she took a deep breath and commanded herself to not be scared. Then a knock at her door scared her out of heralmost-calm reviere.She actually emitted a scream, though it was droned out by a roll of thunder.

She made her way to her door, cursing herself for not purchasing a peep so she could spy who was on her stoop. These were dark times, every fool knew that. Her whole likelihood was determined by the war waging secretly beneath the Muggle noses that she had surrounded herself with. But that wasn't a thing she liked to think about, no, as she took a steadying breath and opening the door.

Immeadiatly, a muddy figure slumped against her wall. He was breathing heavily, heavy robes drenched in rainwater and battleground muck. His hair hung in dampened, long curls and he was rubbing his eyes vigourously.

"Close the door; I won't harm you." he commanded huskily, and she did as she was told, shutting and dead-bolting it.

"I don't mean to startle you, m'am, really," the man continued to speak, rubbing his eyes the whole time, "I'm, well, I'm one of you," here he extended his wand to show he was infact, a wizard, "and there was a skirmish, nearby, I got... well, a spell I didn't disarm fast enough nailed my eyes. I did a quick locator spell, looking for others of us in the area, not expecting nothing, but knowing I couldn't travel far. Found you."

Something about his voice was familiar: it was a steady, low hum that Andromeda found almost unbearably attractive, though the man was hunched over and soaking wet. She responded, telling him of how it was no bother at all, and then pried his hands from his eyes to dress the affected area. The skin around them was a fierce red, swelling as the minutes passed. After crossing the spell (one she recognized due to her familiarity with duelling) with one of her own, she dressed his eyes in a clean cotton, wrapping itaround his head much like a blindfold.

She stripped him from his wet coat and set him on the couch to rest, drying his hair with another quick, reflexivespell. She set to the bathroom to hang his coat, then to the kitchen to prepare some soup. Once it was done, she brought it to the man on her couch.

"How do your eyes feel?" She questioned, walking toward him.

"Where are you?" He questioned, reaching his hands out wildly at the sound of her voice.

They landed on her hips and she didn't move them away, not yet. "Time to take this off, you should be able to see by now."

Untucking the binding from the back while fully aware of the olive hands resting lightly on her sides, she tugged the bandage off. One layer down, the next to go. As her agile fingers pulled the dressing from his face to a wad in her hand, the man blinked. Once. Twice. And then Andromeda found her eyes locked on the most stellar pair of electric blue eyes - the type eyes you never forget.

True blue eyes. Olive skin, tall, slender figure with big broad shoulders. Long, thin fingers and dark chestnut hair and a jawbone that Adonis would admire. She knew this face, these characteristics, this _man, _and he should not have his hand on her hips.

"Tonks?" She breathed softly, her eyebrows crinkling together in confusion as she stumbled back. How could she have missed this?

"Excuse me?" He asked, mirroring her confusion, his deep voice suprising her. "Sorry, things are kindof ... blurry still. But... do I know you?"

She slid to sit in a chair beside his position on the couch. "You could say that."

As the last of the room came into focus, the man blinked again, taking in his surroundings and letting his eyes brush over the tiniest details, before coming to rest on her.

"Black?" He questioned, shock evident.

"Tonks." she snidely replied.

"Good to see things haven't changed. Or... wait, wait, my wand is not faulty. Maybe they have?"

She shot him a glare in response to his tone.

"Ouch!" he continued, laughing. "Still stings like it used to. You, Misses Black, are a sight for sore eyes."

"Oh, you're a sore sight for my eyes. Of all the dead beat soldiers to arrive on my doorstep..."

"Of course it had to me! You'd never have it anyother way."

She rolled her eyes and he began on his soup like a starving man. He raised his head to speak to her.

"So how's your man of wax?"

"Merlin, you remember that! And, wipe your chin."

A bit of tomato dribbled from the location and he swiped it, she continued to speak. "I still think you are the only male of our entire institution to have ever read that play."

"But of course, after I began calling him that, did you not read it?"

He was rewarded with another glare, which he parried with a smirk.

"Yes, but you'd be suprised to know that Lucius is no longer in the picture."

"I always knew you two would never make it to the altar."

"Yeah, right. Who told you we broke up?"

"James Potter, strangely enough. He came into my office, a goofy grin on his face, and told me flat out that, and I quote, 'the love of my life had left the albino freak' and told me I should 'go be my charming self and sweep her off her feet.'"

"That boy could have been so brilliant, I don't know what it was that fried his little brain."

"All those points you docked from him during his earliest school days emotionally traumatized him."

"He deserved them!"

"I'm sure he did, Black, I'm sure. As did Sir- I mean, other people, who were not so equally punished."

"Oh, bother, you can say his name now."

"Really?"

"Yes, he is my cousin. Actually, I think he's the only family I've got right now."

Tonks let his spoon clatter to the bowl in shock. He didn't comment, seeing the evident pain on her face. "That bad, huh?"

"No, probably worse. But hey, it all works out in the end."

"That it does, that it does. And now that I can see, and I've eaten for about the first time in about three days, I think we need to celebrate."

"What?" she cried incredulously, not realizing his mission was to cheer her up.

"Celebrate! We can start some music," he sent a blast of from his wand and some swing began, "and a little me," he rose, extending a hand toward her, "and a little you, and we can dance."

She allowed him to wrap her in formation, a wide enough space between them that another person could fit. He didn't protest vocally, and they began and unsteady step.

"What are we celebrating, exactly?"

"There are always millions of things out there to celebrate, Blacky. You've just gotta find them. Now take your pick: there's... Well, you. Me. Sirius. Growing up, going away, getting sexy," here she laughed and he looked mock-offended, "the first time you've allowed me to touch you, oh, ever. Our first civil conversation together."

"To you and me, then!"

She giggled as he dipped her, then a crash of lightning sank the apartment into darkness and Andromeda curled up next to Ted. The only sound was her frightened breathing, right up against his ear, and the rain thudding against the window.

He cleared his throat dryly. "Andromeda?" he questioned lightly, and she took a breath. Now or never, she decided, raising her gray eyes to his face. The blue had lost some of its luster in the lack of light, but his eyes were looking at her intently nonetheless.

Slowly, she removed her hand from its spot on his chest, careful to not move her body an inch from his comfortable embrace, and brought it to rest on his cheek. He watched with a silent trepidation, steadied her, and brought his lips softly onto hers. She didn't protest, to his utter amusement, but ... confusion swept in.

He drew his face back, realising who and what and wondering how. Theirstance broke slightly, and he began to step backward. Another tiny, pale hand made its way onto his other cheek, and now both her hands rested lightly on his face as she met their lips again, hungrily.

Thunder rolled and clapped outside for the rest of the night, but Andromeda found herself totally distracted from the storm on a general whole. Later on, she found it not all too hard to stop hating storms all together.

**Notes- **the end is a cop-out, sortof. Sue me. This was written a fair while back, but I found it and decided to upload it despite the ever-silly ending. Showing evidence I'm still alive and kickin' fanfically. The wax man/Lucius & play refrences in the diolauge is a mirror to Romeo and Juliet, who always seem to come up in my Meda/Ted fics. Hm, wonder why?

_Reviews make me feel warm & fuzzy._


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